Among Others
by Lovely Lux
Summary: I wasn't sure what I was doing, or who I was anymore. Being classified as one of the fiercest death dealers only made me believe I was a monster, until I met him. Strangely, he was the only thing that ever made me feel...human. And that is unacceptable.
1. I The Lair

**.:I:.**

_**The Lair**_

This is not how things usually come to be. It is unethical, for my kind, to be rescuing the life of the enemy. A life I seem to care for beyond my own understanding. It began as an innocent curiosity, and somehow developed into something…more.

I slammed the door shut, firearm in hand as I inspected the vampire quarters with precise scrutiny. A relief, no sign of life, or much rather _death_ anywhere.

"Where are we?" His gentle masculine voice caught me off guard as he approached me, feeling a comfortable closeness I found much too difficult to bear. I stuck the pistol into its holster, keeping my gaze stark cold and alarmed, as I slowly began to circle the room in search of anything odd. A rare guise I normally never had to assume before I met the human, soon to be Lycan.

"You're in a vampire safe house. As business with humans continues to expand, we've been granted establishments in every major city." I continued to keep my distance, eyes focused on surgical equipment that was never used for healing purposes at all. He stood beside me, the heat of his body exuding from his skin causing warmth that caressed my frigid epidermis instantly. He was seductive, without even knowing it. His steady melodic breathing found its way to my neck, causing even the coldest of vampires to shiver.

"What's all this?" He picked up a scalpel and examined it briefly before setting it down again, dry blood stains fastened at the tip.

"Lycans are allergic to silver. We have to remove the bullets or else they die in the middle of questioning." I walked towards the only window in the quarter which was shielded with thick venetian blinds.

It was the birth of the afternoon and the sky was menacing. Dark blue and grey hues hung over the skyscrapers heavily, leaving much to the imagination of how tall they stood. I tapped on the sensory panel beside the windowsill, which caused the blinds to vanish in quick motion. I examined the vacant streets of Craiova, Romania. Stolid, in a sense, as rain began to matriculate on the ashen coble stone of the province.

"Selene." He called for me, as though he were trying to get my attention for some time now, my thoughts preoccupying me otherwise. Lost in thought, I didn't realize how close he'd gotten…again. Flecks of blue shined through his profound eyes, nearly incapacitating me with a blink. It was unlike me, to ever possess such feelings of yearning or affection. A word wasn't needed to respond as I flashed a dry, impassive look at him, another guise I felt I must assume. As I waited for his reply, he instead filled the moment with silence. His lean, sculpted body was an indomitable presence that seemed to keep throwing me off each time he approached me, so unyielding and powerful. His disheveled, dirty blonde hair lay restlessly over his eyes and within that moment, I noticed how beautiful he was. His skin took on the color of life, while mine only found the absence of it. It amazed me how interested he appeared, studying the angles of my face, the very structure of my jaw line to the ends of my tousled shoulder length hair. I stood in wonder as this beautiful creature studied me, gently placing a hand on the small of my back while I, surprisingly, placed mine on his cheek. Like two creatures different in comparison but the same in curiosity, there we stood undeniably drawn to one another. I was indeed interested in the mysteries this man had within him, yet as a death dealer I was also set on my ways. I thought of my dearly loved dark father, Viktor. He'd surely consider my behavior as treachery, and I couldn't even begin to fathom the betrayal he'd feel on my doing. I took a step back, breaking the firm hold he began to forge on my back. As comforting as it was, it was also wrong. Very wrong, in fact. I took a few more steps back, confused by my poor behavior and lack of backbone in the matter.

"What's wrong?" The question in his voice was filled with concern, a tone I'd much rather not listen to under the circumstance. I didn't want to know if he was caring or sincere, or if he was an idiot for possessing these two qualities towards an assassin such as me. I glanced at the bite mark on his neck, still fresh with blood and hemorrhaging scar tissue. It was the mark that determined his fate. The consumption into the Lycan world had already taken a toll on him, festering within his thoughts incoherently. It was an inevitable misfortune for the ancestor of Alexander Corvenus, and it would only be a matter of time before he was recruited as a soldier for the never-ending blood feud.  
"I must go." I finally looked away, urgency in my voice as I approached the double doors from whence we entered.

"I'm going with you." Determination rang strong in his voice as he ran a hand through his hair, closely following behind.

"No you are not." I was a bit startled of the tenacity within me, as I turned to face him with my mind already made up. His arms found the small of my back once more, tenderly holding me with a desire burning in his eyes that I hadn't noticed before. He then placed his hand on my face, caressing his thumb on my cheek so sweetly, I was feeling inoperative again. His entire body gently pressed against mine, creating an undeniable urgency at the pit of my stomach I was unaware I even had.

"I want to be with you." Affirmation in his words, he gazed intently at me, as if looking within my soul, if I had one. So sure of himself, his warm lips found mine, savoring each tender moment as if it were the last. The passion within him only grew stronger, drawing me in, further into his world. A world between human and Lycan, a world much too complex for my own understanding. He sucked and pulled at my lower lip as I then realized my hands were performing unusual movements at my dismay. I was pulling him towards me, enveloping them around him in an act of longing I've never been familiar with. I adored it, him holding me closely while his lips greeted mine with the utmost warmth and desire. Shocked by such an endearing act, my mind told me to pull away, but it was outnumbered by my lips, arms and need to have him. His lips trailed off lightly on my cheeks and neck, causing my knees to buckle, a feeling of weakness that resounded throughout my extremities. It was as if he gained complete control over me, as I wanted nothing more than to devour him at that very moment.

"Michael…" I found myself addressing him by name, and it possessed a sound of sweet perfection. _Michael, _I thought, it rang through my head as I tried to recover, but still found myself in his protective grasp as he was only a few mere inches away from my lips, ready to take another dive. His eyes, they were amazing. How easily did they pull me in before, and how beautifully did they beseech for my intimacy yet again. Stunning, striking – I couldn't even surmise how these words did him little justice in inconceivable beauty. I was lured, and oh I wanted to be so. His angelic features reminded me of a peace and a love I have never experienced, although I envied all who did. He kissed me once more, quick without thought or even much care to think of it. It was what he wanted – what I wanted. We both knew this, yet we always tried the latter. Kiss, two, three, four more times. I must've been induced with the love drug, as I fit perfectly into his embrace, needing each next kiss more than the last.

"I ache for you, Michael…" It was infatuated banter, as I whispered these words out of fervent poetry. He laid gentle kisses on the cleft of my neck, sending an enigmatic blood rush running rampantly through my veins. As seductive as it all was, it was also lethal. I'd been so caught up in the blood quarrel amongst our breeds that I hadn't even fed in days. Much of that can explain my easily swayed state as I continued to allow Michael to have his way. I then felt it come over me. The sensation, the desire to have and need. It felt savage of me, yet completely natural. They began to tear through me, a slow painful ripping that was only so wretched because of how much I tried preventing it from happening. It boiled from within, the urge to wrap myself around the one thing that empowered me to remain undead. The _need to feed. _The tips of my incisors showed their treacherous form, instantly cutting my tongue as I tried to hide them from view. The taste of my own blood was quite repulsive, and didn't hold the same distinctive flavor of succulent copper as that of a human. With much force, I pushed him off of me and watched his body slam against the wall opposite me.

"I'm sorry… I –" I stammered and paused through midsentence. I didn't know why I felt so ashamed, and this only further stimulated the anger that writhed within me. My incisors were completely exposed now, within full view and Michael was front and center. If he was frightened, I couldn't tell, fear did not sweep over him like it did with every human I encountered. Why did I hold him in such high regard, as if I had to apologize for something so organic, so normal yet so vile? There was such seriousness in his eyes as he pushed himself off the wall and back towards my direction. He wasn't backing down.

"You're so beautiful." He pushed the hair away from my face as I stood in my vampirical glory, fangs resting on my lower lip as my eyes pierced his in hunger.

"I haven't fed. I'm weakening; I shouldn't even be doing this. If Viktor finds out – "

"Then he won't, " he replied unbelievably resolute. His hands rubbed my arms as if to provide some sort of heat, and incredibly it did.

"You don't understand, Michael. I don't want the responsibility of ending your life." I shook off his embrace and headed towards the door again.

"Why not?" He firmly questioned me. "If you're so determined to end my life, why haven't you done it already?" He challenged, calling me out in such a way that I couldn't find the words.

"Because I –," I paused, knowing the truth. I refused to say it, to admit I developed some sort of _feelings _for him. I never even believed I was capable of such a thing, but after such a terrible performance anyone who witnessed it would know. I was supposed to detest his kind, and yet didn't have the spine to do so. I violently pulled my gun out from its holster, pointing it directly at his chest. I pressed its cool metal surface against him, forcing him to sit at the nearest chair. I caught a glimpse of myself on the metal wall in front of me, and couldn't be more disgusted with my appearance. My fangs perpetuated death as razor blades did after just being sharpened for their victim. My eyes captivated such a silver blue color, that it even made me cringe just gazing into them. I was a monster for needing to kill him, but a renegade for refusing. No matter how many times I heard Viktor's words in my thoughts, I couldn't bring myself to off him. I was supposed to be this viscous assassin, especially towards what he was about to become, but after all was said and done, I couldn't bear it. As I continued to press the gun firmly to his chest, Michael sat there, taking it all in. He was prepared for his fate, a fate I wasn't going to promise him, at least not by my doing.

"Listen you filthy Lycan," I sneered at him, "once you turn, you are going to rip apart the first human you see." I vigorously chained his arms to the chair, paying little mind to the pain it may have caused as the chain ripped apart some skin at his wrists.

"I cannot leave you to do as you please." I had to be convincing enough, and this seemed to be the only way. He stared into my eyes, with no hint of fear or disconcert. Reading him had become a task difficult to achieve.

"Then do what you have to do." He replied, ever so calmly, gazing at me intently. It was as if he understood my behavior, or worse, he could see past the act. In frustration, I put the gun to his head, finger slightly pulling at the trigger. I heard him take a deep breath, and as I took a look at his face, his eyes were closed, peacefully. I knew what I had to do.

"I will not be responsible for ending your life." I whispered, and with that, I slammed the pistol against his skull, causing him to fall unconscious. Instead of holstering the pistol, I lay it on his lap, for when the time came, surely he will need it.

.:II:.


	2. II The Coven

**.:II:.**

_**The Coven**_

The ever puncturing splinter festered within my mind the entire drive back to the estate. As the truth dawned upon me, I knew it was time for me to leave the coven before matters became worse. Viktor would do what was deemed necessary, which was to inform the leaders of my thoughts and feelings of indiscretion. I had fallen for a Lycan, the pestilence that haunted our existence in this world. I held only one very important task, and that was to destroy the infectious creatures on site. Instead I become swayed by one, taking solace in one's arms and feeling the tenderness of one's kiss. That particular one being Michael Corvin. To the Lycans he was the antidote, the answer to Lucian's prayers. To the Vampires he was considered fair game, a simple minded dog in desperate need to be put to sleep. And to me, well, knowing that he had any significance in my heart was shocking enough. Here I was, a vampire, destined to avenge a family torn by such mongrels, yet all I could keep thinking of was Michael's lips resting against my own. He made me… tremble. It was a sensation I only recalled during my human life. A hair-raising prickling feeling against my skin as my back would rest upon the crisp morning grass, finding myself once again out late, dreaming beneath the moonlit sky of night. It was the human life I so quickly turned my back on, and now was the life I so eagerly wanted to return. The cold wet stains that fell from my eyes felt nowhere near the same as they did from my human life. They slowly crept down my porcelain face and dangled lightly off my chin, an anger forming within as all forms of reality ventured into my mind. Could it be I have not accepted what I become after all these years? That I am allowing this creature with whom I believe is beautiful and divine to cloud my judgment? Surely this wasn't right. In fact, it wasn't me. For centuries I tracked and killed Lycans with great pleasure, and here I was, about to let just 1 of them change my mind. It was madness to even think it. Sure, he'd awaken my feelings of lust and desire, but that was all. "Thank the bastard and move on," I whispered to myself, taking a hard right into the driveway into the gothic mansion I called home. Once I informed the coven of Michael Corvin's whereabouts, they'd be pleased with my successful attempt to capture him, and it would finally be over. The Vampire army would effectively take out the Lycan's only redeemer, for whatever reason they needed him for we did not know, and we'd slay the rest of them where they stood. Yes, this is how it would happen. Feelings of elation briefly showed on my lips as a gentle smile unfolded, only for a brief second, while I headed into the cathedral like doors of my beloved castle… my home.

*******

As I walked through the doors, I was happy to note that the mansion was in the same state I had left in; in a state of celebration. Although we were in the 21st century, it was as if time stood still in the gothic like castle, with women dressed in 16th century attire, the very fond renaissance period that no one seemed to let go. Gowns of tapestry and corset bodices cut with dark velvets and brocades at every turn, men dressed in opulence with their chemises embroidered with ornaments and cuffs edged with lace, and glasses filled with freshly poured blood, served scorching hot at the normal 98.6°F.

"Blood drunk," I noted to myself, as I continued my much rushed pace throughout the crowd of impenetrable vampires, their fangs willfully exposed in delight. They were the upper class vampires, the ones that refused to feed on humans the organic vampirical way, which would mean blood stains on their newly jewel adorned gowns and trousers. You would never find humans here, just the liquid sustenance that at one point kept them alive, now being ingested by the vampire aristocrats of the 21st century. Their pale translucent skin along with the eerie glow of their eyes illuminated the immense dining hall with the only light within it, aside from the lit candlesticks hanging off the chandelier on the ceiling.

"We've been expecting you Selene," Kraven appeared suddenly, placing his chilled hand intimately on the small of my back. He hungrily stared at me, his eyes piercing and his lips forming a brazen grin. He breathed heavily against my cheek, the sweet smell of blood penetrating my nose causing a desire to ripen under the surface of my skin, a scent I've missed over the past several days since I've fed. I stared back, unabashed and accepting of the rich scent that exuded from his breath, and when he kissed me so deeply as he always had, I realized that I felt nothing from it. I was immune to his passion, as his tongue beckoned for mine to intertwine with his. I tried to remain normal as his lips broke hold of mine, only enjoying the taste of blood that lingered from his fangs, a tease not even closely replenishing my desires. I eyed the shiny goblet he held that contained the dusty rouge substance so hungrily, that I began to feel my body weaken by the instant. Taking notice of my actions, Kraven placed the goblet in my hand, and watched as I devoured it, not caring how the blood overflowed past my mouth and down my neck.

"My queen," he began, tightly holding me against his body with his lips pressed against my ear, "you are starved. Let me replenish your thirst in the only way I know how." His fang lightly nibbled on my ear, trying to provoke an intimate interlude involving blood and sex. Yes, it was Kraven's ultimate desire to feed during fornication, and it was an act he performed quite salaciously. But as I dropped the empty goblet and watched it hit the floor, I knew time was not on my side this night, and the matter of Michael Korvin had to be presented to the elders right away.

"No. I need to speak with Viktor. I have vital information that we could use against the Lycans and I'm not about to let it wait." I replied, licking every morsel of blood that stained my lips. With a stern nod, Kraven raised his hands in front of him, eyes glued to mine. "Lead the way, my sweet." Without delay, I marched my way through another set of corpulent doors towards Viktor's sanctum, more than ready to deliver my judgment.

The walk towards the sanctum felt faster than how it was usually. For the life of me, I couldn't help but feel absolutely horrid for what I was prepared to do. Prepared because I already knew exactly what I was going to tell Viktor, it was the perfect plan. I'd tell him that the Lycan's most prized possession is within my capture, and that he was free to do whatever of his choosing to the mutt, and surely knowing Viktor it would be a blood bath. It would please Viktor and I'd be rewarded, a generous token of gratitude hundreds of years in the making. And that, I surely was prepared for. But I wasn't prepared for the feelings that came with it. At first I was convinced it was the blood I had just ingested, but Kraven was drinking it by the boat load, and as he walked by my side he seemed more powerful and resolute as ever. That's when I knew it couldn't be the blood. That's when I knew the feelings were familiar. It felt as if my perception of gravity had escaped my senses completely, the sensation at the pit of my stomach beginning to augment at each step I took. It was the way I felt when Michael touched me, and how weak and human it made me feel. Human. He made me feel like a human would. Like I once had many years ago. I never even imagined that was ever possible, being as though I was no longer a human being. I was what became of a human after the deadly vampirical virus transfused through my body, rampantly passing through each artery and ventricle till there was nothing left of a soul but the morbidity of death. An eternal awoken death I once questioned every day of my awaken-dead life after Viktor took me under his wing to avenge my family. And Michael had rekindled some semblance of emotions within my very dead heart. There had to be a reason, why I chose to save his life the way I had. I had to know the answer to this, for Viktor would indeed ask me as soon as he knew I kept him alive. It didn't make much of a difference to Viktor what way it would've happened; a dead Lycan is a _dead _Lycan. Whether it be by his hand or another's the simple fact would still remain. I've killed tens of thousands of them, and this 1 human on the verge of turning Lycan stopped me dead in my tracks. Why would that be?

As I stood in front of the door, Kraven grew impatient, waiting for me to enter.

"I told you we should've fed first." He grinned, questioning my ability to gain the strength to open the doors that weighed close up to 3 tons. Almost embarrassed that I hadn't even realized how I was just standing there in a paused state as I contemplated my next move. I pushed through them, not as easily as I usually had, and that I solely blamed on my lack of energy. As I trudged through, the room was ominous, poorly lit and barely recognizable.

A cloak covered in jewels standing a majestic 7 feet tall covered Viktor from neck to feet, only showing his taut, alabaster like skin and silver radiant hair, resembling more like a spirit then a vampire. He was the ethereal god of all the creatures of the underworld, and all that came within his path feared him as if he were the gate keeper himself. And that was the thought he wanted all his victims to keep close to them. That with just one nod, a flick of his wrist, or even a blink, you can possibly be turned inside out or split directly in half. Fear was a mere understatement when you came crossed with Viktor. And at this moment, all the terror poured into me as he glided towards me, and from across the room he reached my side within a half a second. His hands were frail as they sat on my shoulders, but froze me through my leather trench. His eyes were never kind or welcoming. Smiles never graced his lips at anytime of his life, dead or undead. And as he stared down at me, the black hollowing out of his eyes ignited a treachery in my stomach that I couldn't control. With that one look, a look from my Father with the absent eyes, I knew he saw deep into my thoughts, past the skin, blood and muscle tissue. He saw the chemical exchange that occurred neurologically within me, smelled the fear that emitted from my skin, and felt the quick paced beating of my limp little heart as it tried to run for dear life, a quest far too impossible to even explain.

"Kraven – LEAVE US!" His words boomed throughout the entire castle, casting Kraven out of the sanctum within seconds as he shrieked in holding his ears in pain. It was the battle cry Viktor was notoriously known for, and as I surely tried collapsing to the floor, the frail hands that were placed on my shoulders now grasped them with little effort from him, lifting me off from the ground and at his eye level – which indeed had never been the level I now recognized it to be: the level of death.


End file.
